Maybe Forever Maybe Not
by SaintPellegrino
Summary: Maybe he came to make the Kingdom better for everyone. Maybe he came because he was bored. Maybe he came... for me? That's not likely.


How did love come upon us?

More importantly, why does love torment only a selected few?

Why did love come to me?

I don't want it. I don't need it.

But somehow, it grabbed a hold of me, and it's not releasing that hold.

I never expected it. I was taught that my unknown, but future husband would be my anchor and rock, and I would serve him until my dying day.

Yeah right. Everybody knows that worked out splendidly for me.

At this rate, I'm going to blow my brains out. I can't deal with all the whispers, all the snide remarks, the relentless pounding in my head and stomach just when I get a glimpse of him. I never think about what I feel. It's not worth it. I have a kingdom to restore, for the love of Nayru!

How did I get so concerned with what he thinks? What are his thoughts about his past, his destiny, his employment… his princess?

Maybe I do matter, in the long run. Maybe I don't. This is his entire fault anyway.

I couldn't have done anything without him. I wouldn't be _alive_ without him. He's the savior of his hometown, the kingdom, and my savior.

Oh my word, I'm sounding like a damsel-in-distress from a ten-rupee romance novel. This is bad.

But how can I help myself? His presence uplifted my soul from my past failures. His little half-smile behind his lanky hair can make my day. That damn hat of his is so ostentatious, so bizarre; it just defines his very person. No matter the weather, no matter the protocol, no matter the formality, that hat is constantly on his head. Sometimes it falls off, and he blushes like mad. He has an odd attachment to that hat, but there's no issue with that. Personally, it's a bit adorable.

I'm lost on why he decided to enter my service. He had no clue of what world he was intruding; the cutthroat world of politics, scandal, intrigue - the list runs on. The nobility of the upper class social circles immediately hated him for his slight drawl on vowels, his charitable and selfless nature, and even for his protective disposition. They never knew that he saved their sorry souls from destruction and pain. They thought he didn't deserve my favoritism, and maybe they're right. He's the only person I can bare my soul to. I don't have to put on a fake smile or lie through my teeth to him. My image of him isn't marred by rumors of illicit whoring and drinking, or unabashed cruelty to the less fortunate. Maybe he's just too good for the likes of the nobility.

I'd like to say that his progress in court life is decent. Actually, he's improved from awkward conversations with senile Archduchesses and stumbling during dances, to an enigmatic charmer that almost rivals me during traditional dances. But his character hasn't been harmed. But he is basically incorruptible. I don't know if he enjoys the blur of this extravaganza, but I know I enjoy it with him.

I can't stop thinking about him. This is madness. Here I am, on another evening of some political ball, doing mindless paperwork. I snuck away, thinking I could relax, clear my head, and get some work done. But I only have seven lines written on a new proposition, and he's in every thought I'm having! I tuck a strand of hair that's gotten lose from my plait behind my hair, and I put my quill back onto the parchment. It's to no avail. I lay down the quill to the side of the mahogany desk, and I lean back against my padded chair. Sighing, my thoughts stray back to him. We began my advanced studies in fencing today, and it's more fun then I anticipated, even though he does go way too easy on me. I'm not _that _helpless, but he likes to think I am. I flirted and teased him when he got red and flustered when we sparred, and that only made him more sloppy and erratic. He still won at the end, in the usual clean, fair way. My feelings for him weren't subdued at all when he decided it was "too humid" for a shirt. In the middle of spring, with half the court staring at us! It's not that I was prude or uncomfortable about it. Rather, I sort of enjoyed the thrill of it. Maybe he holds some romantic notion for me. Maybe he doesn't.

But what if he does? What if we fell in love? What if we crossed class and social boundaries and married? What if we ruled together for many years, and watched our children spring up before our eyes? What if we journeyed to the Sacred Realm together, to forever be in peace?

That's not the goddesses' plan for us, to my depression.

I know the Hero and the Princess will never have a fairy-tale happy ending. I know the Princesses of the legends have had their hearts shattered every generation, and I can't escape my fate. I know the Hero will do everything he can for me, and it will destroy him. He'll have his heart broken by me, and I'll never be able to face him. He knows he'll be loyal to me, even up to my marriage to a nameless, faceless man. Maybe he'll exile himself to distant lands to forget about me, and his heroics will come back to haunt me until I die. And if he dies, then my heart and soul will wither and die with him.

Wearily, I slowly get back onto my feet and heave open the door of my study, back into a hallway of the Castle. Appearances are everything nowadays, and I have to get back, least the partiers actually notice their Princess has deserted her guests.

Maybe _he_ missed me, maybe not.

But let's just see what the goddesses have in store for our destinies, eh?


End file.
